


if these walls could talk (they'd probably tell us to get our act together)

by mischievous



Series: this is who we are together [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, it's just the team being the team during their downtime, it's talked about but Coulson's not in this one, while Tony and Steve sort themselves out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 06:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischievous/pseuds/mischievous
Summary: Maybe if they'd tried talking about it sooner, the last six months wouldn't have hurt so much.





	1. Chapter 1

It's been a long week at Stark Industries and Tony can feel exhaustion pulling at him as he drags himself from his desk to the coffeepot only to discover that he's entirely out of beans. He'd meant to pick up a bag from the communal kitchen but clearly that slipped his mind. Along with, he suspects, probably a thousand other things.

SI's stock dropping six points is a problem for Pepper, which makes it a problem for _him_.

They’ve survived their break up and their return to friendship somehow — he's not sure how they weathered that storm, only that Pepper probably had everything to do with it because she is _magical_ when she wants to be — but they won't survive Tony failing to pull his head out of his ass when his company's stock value takes a dive.

He's worked up a new Starkphone prototype that should keep the board and the investors happy. He has a press conference for the announcement scheduled for tomorrow afternoon and a fundraising gala after that. He's reasonably confident Pepper will be happy by the end of the day.

He yawns as he takes his cup and makes his way over to the elevator. Jarvis slides the doors open for him automatically and Tony thanks him, absently contemplating the alterations he’s planning for the arc reactor as the elevator glides towards the kitchen without any input from Tony himself.

The best thing about being a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist if you ask Tony, which no one ever does, is definitely having a Jarvis.

He does consider taking it back when he steps out of the elevator, as he remembers at the last minute that he has no idea what time it is. It turns out it's dinner time and the whole team is assembled in the kitchen. Minus Bruce, who Tony suspects is holed up in his own lab, and, he realizes after a moment, Natasha. She’s usually present.

"Friend Tony!" Thor booms, delighted to see him. "It is most excellent of you to join us for this Midgardian meal. I had thought not to see you before I depart for Asgard this evening."

Truth be told, Tony would've been sad to see Thor leave without saying goodbye. But he didn't come here to join them for dinner, he's just here for the coffee. Speaking of which...

He crosses the kitchen, offering a genuine smile for Thor, trying to avoid Steve's gaze as he does.

Steve tends to lecture him about things like _it’s healthy to sleep for eight hours per night, Tony,_ and _moderating caffeine consumption helps reduce blood pressure_ , all things that Tony has no interest in talking about. Or at least he does when he can get Tony to stay in one place long enough to do so.

Tony still has work to do, he’s decided that enhancing the Starkpad before the conference won't hurt, and his teammates always try and make him _stop_. They don't realise that too much time in Steve's presence does more damage to him than sleep deprivation and another cup of coffee ever could.

Screw it being romantic. Unrequited love is a bitch.

He fills his coffee cup to the brim, opening the cupboards to search for a bag of beans to take with him to the workshop. Steve, as always, pays little attention to his desire for personal space, walking towards him wearing a truly horrendous apron that Tony immediately wants to burn.

"I've made lasagna," Steve says, waving him towards the table. "And there's salad and garlic bread to go with it."

Steve is a surprisingly good cook, although he tends to stick to the more traditional meals. For a good curry, you need Bruce. For a randomly exotic dish with no explanation, you go to Clint. (For food poisoning, see Natasha.)

Tony's not against eating Steve's food in the slightest, but too much time as the focus of Steve's attention and his skin starts to crawl with desire. It's hard enough to deal with Steve in his workshop and on his couch five days out of seven without losing his mind.

Tony accepts that Steve doesn't want him because he has no other choice, but Steve's constant presence does nothing except set his nerves on fire. He gets that Steve's probably trying to reassure him that their friendship is fine, but it's not helping in any of the ways he intends.

"Appreciate it, Cap," Tony says, managing to avoid him as he skirts the outside of the table, heading for the door. "But I've got a lot to do before my conference tomorrow, so if you don't mind—"

"And what if we do?" Natasha asks, silky-smooth as she appears in the doorway, blocking Tony's escape and making him yelp. He jerks and his coffee spills over his hand, scalding and unforgiving.

Bruce follows behind her. He looks as if he's also been dragged away from work he'd quite like to complete but knows it's sensible not to argue with Natasha. Tony's not even sure where she keeps most of the knives she can produce at a moment's notice.

"Itsy bitsy," Tony says, forcing himself to sound more cheerful than he actually feels. Once they’d moved past the whole ‘ _you infiltrated my company under Fury’s orders while I was dying, how dare you_ ’ thing, Tony became remarkably fond of Natasha. "Nice to see you, I was just heading back to the workshop."

Behind him Clint says, in genuine horror, "I can't believe you actually think this is gonna go your way, Stark. She'll end you if you even _try_ it."

"Clint, stop. Tony, you're joining us for dinner," Steve says patiently, putting a stop to the conversation. "Please come and sit down. Natasha, put the knife away."

When Tony turns back to face her she is indeed holding a slim sharp knife in her hand. She cocks her head at him patiently, waiting for him to make a choice. It's not much of one. He makes it anyway.

Tony grumbles as she guides him to the table and pushes him into an available seat, her senses tracking Bruce to make sure he's still behind her. Steve is filling plates and sliding them onto the table, and Tony's stomach betrays him with a rumble as Steve sets his down in front of him.

"I hope you like it," Steve says, cheeks faintly pink. "I think you will."

Tony doesn't know why Steve seems to care so much more about his opinion than he does everyone else’s. He’d used to think that it meant something but he flashes back to the moment they shared on the balcony, the one that shattered Tony's hopes and dreams, and knows he was wrong.

 

(His confession had gone a little along the lines of: " _Steve, I need to tell you that, uh, I-I-I think— I think I have feelings for you, and—_ "

And.

Steve's response had been calm and composed, his eyes brimming with empathy as he said, " _Tony, I'm sorry. I just don't feel that way about you, but I'd love for us to be friends._ ")

 

They are friends.

It's just so much less than what Tony hoped for.

Now that he has food in front of him, he realizes how hungry he is. He complains about how Steve’s always nagging him to eat, but someone has to. It used to be Pepper, once upon a time, until it turned out that they wanted different things, different people, and shifted away from each other. She didn’t cook any more often than he did, but they’d eaten at some amazing restaurants.

His stomach growls again even though he’s already halfway through his food, probably protesting it’s extended disuse, but the rest of the team are kind enough not to mention it. Tony suspects that has something to do with Natasha's knives again, from the way Clint opens his mouth several times as if unable to resist teasing, before a glance at Natasha makes him close it.

Whenever Tony looks at her she's eating her dinner quietly, her expression radiating innocence, but Bruce's smile is tinged with wary amusement and that gives the game away.

"What's taking you back to Asgard?" Steve asks Thor, helping himself to garlic bread before offering the plate to the others.

"I must speak with my Father, with the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif," Thor says. "To ensure the fate of Asgard remains as it should. Then I wish to see my Lady Jane before I return to this city."

"Sounds like fun," Clint says, shoveling lasagna into his mouth as though someone might steal it.

Natasha doesn't know what he's so worried about, her attention is fully occupied trying to keep their wayward geniuses in check. Bruce is staring off into the distance and she nudges him to get his attention, looks deliberately between him and his plate. She sees the science haze fade from his eyes as he remembers there's a meal in front of him and applies his attention to that instead.

She smiles at him fondly.

"When do you think you'll be back?" Natasha asks, swiping the garlic bread from Clint's plate, ignoring his outraged squawk as she does. She likes to keep him on his toes.

"Perhaps a week or two," Thor says. "It depends. Of course if I'm needed for any reason before that time, I can return sooner. I have one of those marvelous devices Tony insisted I take that will alert me."

"Let's hope you're not needed for anything, Point Break," Tony says, biting into the piece of garlic bread Steve snuck on to his plate. "In fact, let's hope the stock dropping is the worst thing that's gonna happen this week, because, frankly, I'd like a vacation."

"We _should_ take a vacation," Clint says dreamily, imagining hours of sleep and days spent lounging in the sunshine. He loves his job (well... sort of, sometimes) but he's never been opposed to a rest.

"I could make that happen," Tony says, perking up as he regards his friend. "I'll send you anywhere, just say the word."

"Yes, but would you also bring him back?" Steve queries, smiling at their exhausted genius. "We do need an archer on this team."

"I'll buy you a new one," Tony says, trying to repress a yawn.

"Hey!" Clint objects. "Watch it, Stark. I'm irreplaceable."

"I'm not sure that's true," Steve says thoughtfully, and Clint's outrage transfers to him. "Clint, I'm kidding. Tony, you can't just replace Clint."

"Are you sure?" Tony asks doubtfully. "I don't know if you know this, but I do have a lot of money."

Steve laughs as he watches the smaller man. He adores all versions of Tony but sleep-deprived Tony is one of his favourites. His dark hair is free of gel and strands fall across his face. He swipes at them absently, never quite managing to brush them out of the way.

Steve wants to run his fingers through those strands, to tame them, but Tony's never indicated that the touch would be welcome. Steve wears his heart on his sleeve. If Tony's choosing not to notice, there's a reason. It's not Tony’s fault that sometimes Steve can’t help but believe there's more to their relationship than simple friendship.

"No one's replacing Clint," Natasha says firmly, eyeing Tony and Steve. "At least not without my permission."

"Nat!" Clint objects, frowning at his partner. "You know, guys, I'm not really feeling the love today."

"Do you usually?" Bruce asks, dryly, and Natasha muffles the laughter that threatens to escape.

"Even _you're_ joining in?" Clint looks at Bruce in disbelief, but the scientist merely shrugs as he takes a bite of his salad.

"Such teamwork," Steve says, pretending to wipe a stray tear of joy from his eye as Clint's fingers close around one of his knives. Natasha clears her throat and he looks at her, seeing her shake her head.

Natasha's annoyingly protective of their new teammates.

She used to be annoyingly protective of him.

(To be fair: she still is.)

"Okay, that’s enough," Steve says, before they actually agitate Clint in ways they don't intend. "Clint, we appreciate your contributions to this team and as Team Captain I can assure you, I won't let anyone replace you. No matter how much money they have or how many knives they're carrying."

"Well, _thank you_ , Steve," Clint says. "I appreciate that."

Natasha kicks him under the table and Clint kicks her back, narrowly avoiding Bruce and Thor. He knows they're only teasing, he's just not often on this side of it.

But Tony's smiling and Bruce is actually engaging with them and Natasha's happy, which is good measure of where Clint's life is at. They're all together around the table, their bellies are full and no one's attacking them... this might be as close to a quiet evening as they ever get.

Clint leans back in his chair, content to watch.

When they've finished eating Bruce insists that they do the dishes since Steve cooked and Clint gets up to help with only a mild amount of grumbling.

"Don't we have a dishwasher for those?” Tony asks, frowning. “There's no way that Pepper would forget."

"The plates still need rinsing," Bruce points out, collecting Tony's and Natasha's as the genius sits back. "Before they go in. And the pan needs to soak."

Tony looks bewildered.

It makes sense that a man who rarely eats and never cooks has no idea how to use a dishwasher but it doesn't stop the collective eye roll. Even Steve, the man out of time, knows to rinse the plates first.

Natasha and Bruce team up to get everything in the dishwasher while Clint wipes down the table. They've waved off Thor's offer of help but he waits for them to finish before he bids them all goodbye and takes to the skies. Tony silently wishes him safe travels.

Bruce closes the dishwasher and asks Jarvis to switch it on, looking up at the others. Natasha knows he's probably thinking about returning to his lab and she doesn't want him to go. It's so hard to get him out of there to begin with.

"How about a movie?" she suggests, knowing Steve and Clint will probably go for it. It's a start.

"Sure," Clint says, easy-going now that he's been fed. "Anything in mind?"

Natasha shrugs. "Not really. Steve, is there anything you have on your list that you haven't seen yet?"

They've been working their way through Steve's list of 'must see movies' for a while now, in between missions and saving the world.

"Let me grab my notebook and check," Steve says. "Why don't the rest of you sit down?"

Clint bounds down the stairs to claim his favourite chair and Natasha wraps her fingers around Bruce's wrist, pulling him along as she moves to join him. She tries to nudge Tony as well but he’s suddenly uncooperative. He joins them for meals but he never stays to watch a movie with them the way he used to. She doesn't know what changed or why, but she finds herself missing his company.

"Yeah, no—" Tony says, shaking his head. "Look, it was nice to have dinner with the team," he says, and it sounds as genuine as Natasha ever hears him these days. "I know I've been working a lot lately. But I wasn't kidding about having more work to do. I don't have time to sit down, Natasha. I have to get my stock points back up because that's how I’m able to pay for all of this."

He gestures expansively at the tower and beyond, and Natasha thinks of her weaponry and the jet they use, of the floor in the tower that's hers and hers alone, and the money he pours into the cities they damage and the lives of the people in them.

His eyes are dull and she wishes there was something she could do to help him. She thinks of Steve and how much he cares — it's written all over his face, even _Bruce_ can see it — and wishes that had worked out the way they’d all wanted it to. She can pull Bruce out of his shell even though it takes a while, but with Tony she feels helpless to make a difference.

Steve says Tony isn't interested, and Tony's so hard to read when you want just one truth that he doesn’t want to share that she's almost given up when it comes to this, trusting Steve's word. It doesn't stop Steve spending every free minute in Tony's lab – she's seen the sketches – trying to make him smile.

She feels bad for him. He can never bring himself to give up hope. Mostly she wishes Steve were here now, as she faces off against a Tony who looks remorseful but still determined.

"I'm sorry, Nat," he says. "Another time, I promise."

The thing is, she knows he really believes it.

"Okay, but you have to tell Steve," she says, ruffling his hair with her free hand so he knows she isn't mad. "No slinking off so I have to answer the question for you."

He nods, biting his lip as he looks over at the door Steve had exited through a few minutes before.

"You can probably catch him coming back," Natasha says over her shoulder as she heads down the stairs, pulling Bruce alongside. Bruce had stayed quiet while she talked to Tony and she's not really sure which side of this argument he comes down on. She needs to ask him.

They claim a section of the couch, Natasha gravitating towards him as they settle down. He's not fully comfortable with her yet, still tends to stop and stare at her as if he's not sure she's real, but they're getting there, one step at a time. It's new for her to want to spend this much time with someone, or to open up to someone in the ways she does with him.

She's taken to spending her free afternoons in his lab before she prises him away from his work to have dinner with her. Sometimes he comes to the gym to watch her and Steve spar, but it makes him nervous and nervous doesn't tend to work out for him.

Instead they watch movies together or discuss books that they're reading. Natasha is surprisingly well read considering her profession; it seems the Red Rooms had taken all aspects of her education seriously, murderous and otherwise.

"Where's Tony?" Clint asks. He's switched the television on and grabbed the Starkpad that contains the movie library.

"He needed to get back to the workshop," Natasha says and Clint looks disappointed.

"I guess it would've been too much to ask for a whole evening of the guy's time," he mutters, crossing his arms.

"Clint," Natasha sighs. Clint always takes it so personally when Tony makes excuses not to hang out with them anymore. "He's busy, you know that. This stock drop really has him worried."

"It has _Pepper_ worried," Clint returns stubbornly. "Tony doesn't actually _run_ the company, Nat. That's Pepper's job. And they broke up, which means she should be worrying about it and Tony shouldn't."

"Tony's still head of Research & Development," Bruce says, cutting in from where he's been observing next to Natasha on the couch. "Stark Industries is always really going to be Tony Stark. When something like this happens it doesn't matter who the CEO is, of course he's going to help fix it. And don't forget," he adds, "It's usually something we’ve done that sends the stock crashing. Not this time, but usually."

"It wouldn't kill him to take a night off," Clint complains. "We live in his tower and we hardly see him."

Steve chooses that moment to walk back into the room, glancing around for only a second before he asks, "Tony?"

Natasha points silently in the direction of the workshop. Of course Tony didn't do the one thing she asked of him.

Steve turns and leaves again without a word, tucking the slim black notebook into his pocket, presumably to find out why Tony's abandoned them on another movie night.

"Maybe we should just pick something ourselves," Clint says. "This might take a while and Cap didn't leave the damn notebook."

"I wouldn't leave my notebook with you either," Bruce says, amused. "You're a spy, Clint."

"So's Natasha!" Clint protests. "But you let her in your _lab_."

"Bruce knows he can trust me," Natasha says, but the way her gaze darts towards him as she does makes him think she's not so sure.

"I do know that," Bruce agrees easily, smiling as the shadows clear from her eyes.

She swings her legs up onto his lap and pulls a blanket down from the back of the couch, throwing it over them. Bruce's hands hover for a moment before they settle, warm and reassuring.

"Wanna pick, doc?" Clint asks, spinning through movies fast enough to make Bruce dizzy.

"You can pick," he says, waving the choice away, but adds, "Natasha has veto," before Clint can cackle in glee. He's learnt a thing or two about handling Clint Barton these last few months.

Clint groans and throws a pillow at his partner. He knows Bruce's new-found wisdom can only have come from her.

He picks up the Starkpad again and starts searching for something he thinks they'll all enjoy, or equally hate, hoping that if he takes his time, Steve will make it back before it starts. It’s not really a team movie night without the entire team, but Clint's gotten used to taking what he can get.

He'd never say so but he'd been rooting for Tony and Steve. Tony needs someone he can't push around and Steve needs someone who'll push him sometimes, for his own good. But that relationship seems to be going nowhere, even though he and Natasha had agreed, within days of moving in and observing them, that it could and they'd be perfect together.

How had Nat described it? Perfectly imperfect.

He glances over at his partner in crimes-they-never-mention, and he's glad, at least, that she and Bruce seem to be building something real. He has that for himself and he's seen Natasha’s badly hidden jealousy over the years. He's pleased she seems to have finally found it too.

"How about _Back to the Future_ ," Clint suggests, because Natasha and Bruce seem awfully content to just sit and sneak glances at each other and it's starting to get to him. "That has to be on Steve's list."

"Hmm?" Natasha's distracted but quickly catches up. "It is, we watched it last week."

" _Back to the Future 2_?"

"All of them," Natasha shakes her head. "Try again."

" _The Fast and the Furious?_ "

"He's seen it," Bruce says. "Didn't seem to particularly like it."

" _The Matrix_?"

Natasha quirks an eyebrow.

"The guy can barely work a mobile phone, Clint. He's already seventy years in the future. You want to show him a movie about how this world isn’t real?"

"Valid point," Clint allows, flicking past it. "How about _Beetlejuice_? Wacky fun!"

"Sure," Bruce shrugs, more interested in the way Natasha's snuggling ever closer into his side. She makes a sound that he takes to be approval since Clint queues it up.

"Should we wait?" Clint asks.

Sometimes Steve goes to Tony's workshop and he's in there for hours.

Sometimes he'll be back much sooner, looking rejected.

"Hey, Jarvis?" Natasha asks, waiting for the AI to acknowledge her. "Can you ask Steve if he's coming back to join us?" She shrugs at Clint. "It seems like the fastest way."

A few moments later Jarvis says, “Sir would like you to know that both he and Captain Rogers will be joining you for movie night shortly,” and Natasha’s genuinely floored.

What the hell happened in the last half an hour to convince Tony to come to movie night? Steve asks Tony to join them nearly every time and it never works. Clint and Bruce look equally surprised.

“Okay,” Clint says slowly. “I didn’t expect that.”

Natasha thanks Jarvis with more enthusiasm than Clint had expected, then glances at the ceiling as she adds, “Also, Jarvis? Please tell them I said, ‘Get a goddamn move on, boys’.”

To Bruce and Clint she adds, “Sometimes they’re just so _slow_.”

Bruce nods, knowing exactly what she means.

Natasha shifts again so she’s resting against his shoulder, smiling when he wraps an arm around her shoulders, drawing the blanket more snugly around them as they wait.

If they take much longer, she’ll go and get them herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve leaves the others behind as he makes his way up to the workshop, thanking Jarvis as the elevators appear when he needs them. He cares about Tony more than anyone else in the world, but Tony frustrates the hell out of him every single day. The worst part is that Steve doesn't even think he's doing it on purpose. It would be easier if he were.

When he steps out onto the workshop level, Tony is leaning over DUM-E with a wrench in one hand and the bot is chirping unhappily, trying to get away. Logically, Steve knows he can only have been back here for a few minutes, but Tony somehow looks as if he’d never left.

Jarvis dims the music to accommodate Steve's presence and Tony looks up at the interruption.

He at least has the decency to look guilty when he meets Steve's eyes.

"Hey, Tony," Steve says calmly.

"Hey, Cap," Tony says, trying to match him.

"I was just wondering," Steve continues, "Why it is that you're down here causing DUM-E what sounds like great distress," DUM-E chirps enthusiastically, "When there's a couch full of your teammates waiting for you to sit down with them to watch a movie."

“Cap—“ Tony sighs and then cuts himself off. He knows Steve prefers it when he uses his name and he mostly remembers. Even if ‘Cap’ makes it easier to keep his distance. “Steve. I already explained to Natasha that I have to work. I have to get SI back on track. Everything I have comes from Stark Industries, Steve. I lose the company and I’ll also lose my ability to fund the Avengers. None of us want that.”

“No one’s saying that we don’t appreciate what your money buys,” Steve says, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “But a few stock points isn’t ‘losing the company’, Tony. You need to look after yourself.”

“I don’t have time to—“

“Then let me do it!” Steve snaps. “Stop fighting me! Tony you can’t keep doing this, you can’t keep running yourself into the ground the way you do! We need _you_ far more than we need your money.”

Tony’s frozen, colour high on his cheeks.

“I don’t think babysitting me is part of the job description,” he says finally, deliberately loosening his shoulders as he turns away from Steve. “That’s a little above and beyond the call, Cap.”

“Caring about you isn’t part of the job, Tony,” Steve says, wishing Tony could understand just how strongly he feels about him. “It’s just part of _me_. It’s never going to change.”

If Tony had been tense before, now Steve could swear he’s almost vibrating with it. His eyes are screwed up and his breathing’s fast and shallow, fists clenched by his sides. It hurts Steve to look at him.

“Why do you do this to me,” Tony asks, and his broken, pleading tone tears at Steve’s heart.

“Tony, what are you talking about?”

Steve’s genuinely confused. He knows it makes Tony twitchy when he talks about his feelings, but he’s never provoked a reaction like this before and it seems extreme.

“It’s just cruel,” Tony whispers, not really listening to Steve. “And you’re not cruel. You know how I feel about you. Don’t make me remember I can’t have you when I’m already having a bad day.”

Steve gapes. He has absolutely no idea what Tony’s talking about but he needs to know. _Right now_. Because it sounds a lot like something he never thought he’d hear.

He crosses the workshop and takes the wrench from Tony’s hand, placing it carefully on the table before he takes Tony’s hands in his. Tony’s trembling, ever so slightly, refusing to meet Steve’s eyes.

“Tony,” he says, trying hard to shoot for calm and probably missing it by a mile. “Tony, I need you to explain what you’re talking about because I think we’re having some _serious_ communication issues.”

"I don't want to talk about it," Tony says, sucking in a lungful of air. Steve's worried about him, given that his breathing seems uneven and his lungs are already compromised because of the arc reactor.

"We need to," Steve says softly, tempted to pull him into a hug but knowing it won't be welcome right now. "Tony, what do you mean you can't _have_ me?"

Tony flinches.

"Do you have feelings for me?" Steve asks, hesitant only because he's terrified the answer will turn out to be no. "Tell me the truth, Tony, _please_."

Tony's eyes are suspiciously shiny when he peeks up at Steve and nods his head, a tiny movement that makes Steve's heart skip a beat.

"I like you too, you idiot," Steve says, so relieved that his legs feel weak with it, and Tony's eyes snap up to meet his.

"What?" he croaks out, looking at Steve as if he can't quite comprehend what he's hearing. “Since when?"

"Forever, Tony," Steve says, and he's a heartbeat away from laughing with joy. Or crying. It could really go either way. "For months! I thought you just didn't feel the same way. I was so obvious. Everyone said so!"

"Everyone?" Tony repeats, still looking slightly shell-shocked. His fingers tighten against Steve's and he shifts closer, studying Steve as if he's still trying to figure out how this happened and if it's true.

Given Tony's general level of sleep deprivation, Steve supposes he can understand not being entirely confident in reality. He frees one hand to pinch Tony's arm, smiling at the outraged, "Ow!"

"Just wanted you to be sure you were awake," Steve says, carding his fingers through Tony's hair the way he'd wanted to earlier before settling his palm against Tony's cheek. Tony softens, leaning into Steve's touch.

"You didn't answer my question," Steve adds, resting his forehead against Tony's, the distance between them fading in increments. "Why did you think I wouldn't be interested? You seemed pretty damn sure."

Tony offers up a look of mock-shock at his language, which Steve ignores. Tony knows how to deflect from a question he doesn't want to answer, but Steve's determined not to let him get away from this. It's too important to him to know how this happened.

"You know why, Steve," Tony says, still sounding reluctant, as if he thinks Steve's putting him through this on purpose. "We talked about it. Last year, couple of weeks after I broke up with Pepper. I told you how I felt and you said you didn't feel the same."

Steve is absolutely certain this never happened.

"When?" he asks. "Where? Because I swear to god I don't remember this ever happening, Tony, and you know I can't get drunk and forget. If we had this conversation it would've been etched into my memory." He adds, almost as an afterthought, "And there's no way it would've gone like that."

"I'm not imagining it," Tony insists. "It happened, Steve."

"Then why don't I remember?" Steve asks logically. "I remember everything." He taps his head. "The serum takes care of that."

"I don't know," Tony says. He looks up at Steve. He's currently less interested in the part where they apparently have different memories than he is in the newly-realised possibilities of kissing Steve.

Tony nudges Steve's palm with his cheek, chestnut eyes filling with mischief. It's amazing what a simple conversation can do for a person's mood, Tony thinks, acknowledging that maybe Steve had a point about talking this out.

"Why are you not more concerned about this?" Steve asks, his thumb dragging lightly across Tony's lower lip. "Either I've lost my memory or you have a false one— doesn't that worry you?"

"It does," Tony agrees, "But right now I'm trying to decide if you're going to let me kiss you or not and that's more important."

Steve stops and realises... he can kiss Tony now if he wants to, instead of thinking about it, dreaming it, drawing it. His smile widens slowly. He thinks it's never going to leave his face.

"That is more important," Steve says and leans down to kiss him.

Tony's lips are soft and his beard catches against Steve's stubble. His fingers settle in Steve's shirt, twining into the fabric as Steve slides his arms around Tony's waist to pull him closer. Tony bites at his lower lip and Steve's breath catches before he deepens the kiss.

DUM-E chirps as he rolls over to them and Tony's forced to pull away from Steve to yell, "No more maintenance, damn it, go away!"

Steve laughs and tightens his arms around Tony, pulling him into the hug he'd wanted before, lips pressed to the curve of Tony's neck. Tony snuggles in willingly. Steve looks at the overworked and endlessly complicated genius in his arms and doesn't really wonder why this took so long. They've never done things the easy way.

"Tony," he murmurs, kissing Tony's cheek as he raises his head. "I swear if it turns out we spent months apart because of an exhaustion-fuelled delusion you had, I'm going to be kind of pissed off."

Tony looks mildly offended. But also worried.

"Why would I hallucinate that, though?" he points out. "Aren't you supposed to hallucinate _getting_ the things you want? Not not-getting them?"

"I don't know," Steve groans, letting his head rest against Tony's. "Maybe your brain wants to make me suffer."

"It's my brain," Tony objects. "It's really more likely to be tormenting me."

"So I'm just along for the ride?"

"Guess so," Tony says, but this time the cheer is fake. When Steve looks at him, his eyes are shadowed. "I'm sorry, Steve."

"You trust your memory," Steve says gently. "Just like I’m trusting mine. We’ll get to the bottom of that mystery eventually, but right now let's put it on hold."

"And make out?" Tony suggests hopefully. "You know, I have a couch."

Steve's well aware he has a couch. He's spent enough time on it keeping Tony company over the last few months. His new knowledge casts a light over his past actions; if Tony thought Steve knew about his feelings and rejected him, he's not sure his being here had been helpful or just painful.

"The last few months..." Steve trails off and Tony shakes his head, trying to push Steve over to the couch.

"Forget the last few months."

"I can't, Tony."

"Then make them better," Tony says, and his voice is shakier. They have a lot they need to talk about and Steve doesn't want that to get lost, but he can't resist Tony when he sounds like that.

Steve stretches out on the couch, leaving space for Tony to settle next to him, leaning into his kiss.

"We need to make time to talk about this," Steve says firmly, in between kisses. "Not right now, but we can't ignore it. I don't want us to hurt each other anymore when the solution is as simple as talking it out."

Tony rests his head on Steve's shoulder as he runs through his mental checklist. His work for SI is already complete, anything else he'd been planning to do had been a bonus. It's enough. He can take the night off. He'd walked away from team movie night because he couldn't sit next to Steve without being able to reach out and touch him. It hurt too much to be so close but so far away from the person he wanted.

Instead of movie night he's lying on his workshop couch snuggling with Steve Rogers and it’s making his grip on reality flicker. He presses his fingers into the bruise forming where Steve pinched him earlier, comforted when he feels the ache down to his bones.

"Later," Tony says. “Let’s talk later.” Steve is always warm, it's one of Tony's favourite things about him, but it makes him sleepy. There’s a pause and then he says, "Hey, Steve?"

Steve hums an acknowledgement.

"This is still going to be real tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, Tony," Steve says softly. "I promise."

Jarvis clears his throat, or Steve thinks he would if he had one. It's an uncanny imitation.

"Captain Rogers," Jarvis says. "My apologies for the interruption but Ms. Romanov is requesting to know whether you'll be rejoining them for movie night."

Steve trails his fingers down Tony's cheek, smiling at him in wonder.

"Tell her I'm sorry but I can't make it. Thanks, Jarvis."

"J, wait," Tony says, and Steve swears he can actually _feel_ the AI hesitate. Tony's work is flawless.

"We can go and join them if you want," Tony says. "I mean, I'll come with you."

"What about your work?" Steve asks. "For SI."

Tony shrugs. "I've done enough.”

Steve smiles and steals a kiss. Tony kisses him back. He knows that their friends seeing them together will make this a whole other kind of real and part of him needs that too.

“J, tell Natasha we’ll be right there,” he says, but makes no effort to move off Steve or the couch.

“You know movie night isn’t held in your workshop, right?” Steve teases, as Jarvis acknowledges them from the ceiling. "We have to get up."

"You're right, I didn't really think this through," Tony smiles into another kiss. "Maybe we could make them come to us."

Steve shakes his head and wraps his arms firmly around the smaller man, swinging his legs until they're sitting upright before standing up in one smooth motion, Tony still held in his arms. He sets him gently on his feet.

"That's cheating," Tony says, but he's smiling and his hands briefly rest on Steve's arms, feeling the muscles flex under his grip.

"So strong," he teases, drawing Steve in closer. "My captain."

"My Tony," Steve says just to see his eyes light up, then kisses the tip of his nose and laughs as his face scrunches in horror.

"Sir," Jarvis says. "Ms. Romanov was extremely pleased to hear you'd both be joining them, but she does request that you, uh," the AI's voice changes to a recording of Natasha saying, "Get a goddamn move on, boys."

Tony looks outraged. "Steve! She's corrupting my AI. He shouldn't be nagging me for her!"

"Tony," Steve advises, taking Tony's hand to lead him to the elevator. "Be grateful she didn't come herself."

Tony considers that as Jarvis opens the doors and shivers as he thinks of the alternative. Even he tries to not to test Natasha's patience too often.

He tangles his fingers with Steve's and fights the blush that threatens to warm his cheeks. This is, he admits to himself, a bigger deal than he wants it to be. He feels almost unworthy, given his past and the purity of purpose of the man beside him, but he doesn't care. He'll find a way to prove he deserves this.

They exit the elevator to the good natured teasing Tony expected, and it's his turn to pull a suddenly-shy Steve behind him as he strolls to the couch.

"Comfortable there, Itsy Bitsy?" he asks, observing the way she's sprawled over Bruce like he's her personal pillow.

His science bro merely raises a hand and wiggles his fingers hello. Tony's happy to see him looking more relaxed, even if he has picked the most dangerous person in the tower besides himself to relax around.

"We've been waiting for you for a while, Stark," Natasha says dryly, refusing to be baited. "Just take a seat so we can start the damn movie."

She waits for them to take the other half the couch before she adds, "I'm glad you finally got your shit together. The two of you wandering around all moony-eyed was really putting a dampener on the mood."

Tony hopes she's kidding.

"What movie did you pick, anyway?" Steve asks, trying to change the subject. He can't deflect like Tony can but he can try. Tony gives him a solid A for effort, but it’s more like a C- for execution.

"Beetlejuice!" Clint says, gleeful as he tells Jarvis to start the movie playing.

"What's..."

Steve trails off when Tony shakes his head and laughs, snuggling into his shoulder. He distracts him from the opening credits with a kiss.

"Seriously, Steve, there's no point in us explaining. Just watch it." He yawns again and Steve thinks he'll be asleep before the movie's even half way done.

It doesn't even take that long and Bruce isn't far behind him, relaxing into the cushions with an arm still around Natasha.

Clint looks at the four of them with a wry smile.

"Thor's gonna be so mad he missed this," he says, looking at his formerly untouchable partner entangled with Bruce and Tony Stark asleep in Steve's arms. "Of all the nights to go off-world."

"You've texted him pictures, haven't you?" Natasha says, resigned. "If I could move right now I'd kick your ass, Barton."

"But you can't," Clint smiles angelically. "And yes I did. It's just too adorable to leave him out. I mean, have you seen the guy when he's disappointed? He looks like a kicked puppy."

"Kicking puppies is just _wrong_ , " Tony mutters without opening his eyes.

Steve's not sure he's actually awake.

"Go back to sleep, Tony," Steve says, stroking his hair as the movie plays on.

Tony snuffles against his shoulder and wriggles closer. "But the puppies, Steve," he says plaintively. “And someone has to stop the unicorns!”

Steve casts an evil look at Clint, who's trying not to laugh.

"No one's kicking puppies, Tony," Steve assures him. "And the unicorns are at peace. Ignore Clint. Go back to sleep."

Tony murmurs something that might be agreement and settles back down. Steve memorises the curve of his jaw and the sleepy weight of Tony's body against his, and thinks he could never get bored of moments like these.

"Not gonna lie, Cap," Clint says, lowering his voice so he won't disturb Tony. Bruce is a deeper sleeper. "I wasn't sure you two were ever gonna figure your thing out. I'm glad you did."

"Me too," Steve says. It's soft but he knows they’ll hear it. "Thanks, Clint."

Clint nods and turns back to the movie. It takes him less than two minutes to add, "You know it's bad when I have more faith in Nat's ability to get through to Bruce than I do in the two of you."

"Hey!" Natasha hisses, watching Bruce for signs he's waking up as she does. She's extremely comfortable and if she has to move, Clint's going to pay. He's lucky she can't reach any of her knives.

"I always knew you'd figure it out," Steve says to counteract him, smiling warmly at his friend.

They've all come a long way since they moved into the tower, six months of living alongside each other turning them from a team into a family.

"And I hoped you would." Natasha's honest in return.

"This is nauseating," Clint whines, holding his hands up in front of his eyes as if blocking them from his line of sight will make them disappear. "I miss Thor. I need backup."

"Maybe Coulson'll stop by and help you out," Natasha smirks and Steve's eyes flick between them in surprise.

"Clint, you and Agent Coulson..?"

"Ignore Natasha," Clint says.

"For years now," Natasha confirms.

Clint's always appreciated the streak of mischief that runs through her veins, but right now he wants one of those partners who _mind their own damn business_.

Steve doesn't seem sure which of them to believe. Clint's staring at the screen with his arms crossed but he eventually takes pity on Steve.

"Three years," he says gruffly. "It's been three years."

"Really more like forever," Natasha says, "But officially three."

"How come he never spends time here?" Steve asks, before realizing that might be a nosier question than he has the right to ask.

"He thought it might be weird for all of you. I've invited him, but..." Clint shrugs.

"When Tony wakes up he'll probably insist on it," Steve says. "Although there might be some confusion over a cellist that you'll need to clear up."

"Ah," Clint says. "You mean Audrey."

"I'm not sure I can take it if you're about to tell me you're dating her too," Steve says, only half-serious. "It's already been a _very_ strange day."

"His cousin," Clint clarifies, laughing at the look on Steve's face. "The first time he mentioned her, Pepper assumed and it was easier for him to let her run with it. That's where Tony got it from."

"Pepper's gonna be _pissed_ ," Natasha says, almost gleeful. "Can I be there when you tell her?"

"Sure," Clint says, fond but exasperated. "You can go instead of me. Besides, if anyone's telling her, it's Phil. I already risk my life every day."

"You tell him that yet?" Natasha asks, freezing as Bruce shifts beneath her, running her hand down his arm to reassure him.

He responds to her touch but Natasha's suddenly aware of the time. She should probably wake him up and send him to bed, but she selfishly doesn't want to.

"I'm saving it," Clint says. "It'll be a nice surprise for him one of these days."

"Sure," Steve nods. "I'm guessing 'Hey, honey, feel like telling Pepper that Audrey is actually me?' will go down real well."

"Excellent anniversary gift," Natasha agrees, smirking.

"I hate you all," he says, and flips them both off.

"I don't think Tony or Bruce can really be held responsible for any of this," Steve points out.

Clint rolls his eyes.

"If Tony were awake he'd be worse than the pair of you combined. " He pauses and considers Bruce. "Bruce might get a free pass."

"He'll make you regret it," Natasha warns. "He's sneaky when he wants to be."

"No wonder you like him."

Natasha shrugs but doesn't deny it.

Clint likes this warmer side of her that Bruce brings out. He's always known it was there, sees flashes of it from time to time, but she’s always kept it buried deep.

Tony's shifting in Steve's arms, blinking his eyes sleepily as he begins to wake up. Steve decides that Tony’s smile, as he realises this hasn't been a dream, could rival the sun.

"Hi," Tony says, soft as he curls closer.

"Hi," Steve teases back, fingertips brushing his cheek. "You missed the movie."

"Cap, _we_ missed most of the movie," Clint snorts. He looks at Tony, tempted to tease but unwilling to ruin the peace that shrouds them. "At least we had a nice chat."

"That sounds ominous," Tony mutters, burying his face in Steve's shoulder. He needs more coffee to take on Barton. Or a partner in crime. He raises his voice and wails, "Bruuuuuce!"

"Hey!" Natasha says, sharp as her eyes rake over Bruce's still-sleeping form. "Let him sleep."

Tony ignores her.

"Bruce!" he says again, louder this time, and Bruce shifts as he starts to wake, unable to ignore Tony's voice. "C'mon, Brucie. Team Sciencebros against the Twinsassins!"

Bruce groans and flings an arm across his eyes as Natasha's expression turns lethal.

"Tony, that's a terrible idea."

"I think we can take them."

"That's because you thought this up before coffee," Bruce says. "I’m willing to _bet_ you thought this up before coffee. I'll pass."

"But, Bruce–"

"Seriously, Tones," Bruce yawns. "Think about it again."

Tony's distracted by the idea of coffee, which Steve firmly shuts down.

"No coffee," he says. "It's bedtime."

Tony rolls his eyes.

"It's only eleven o'clock, Steve."

"So you _don't_ want to come to bed?"

Steve raises an eyebrow and Tony stops, reconsidering his options.

It's habit that sends him to the workshop night after night when everyone else goes to bed. That and a unhealthy volume of nightmares but Steve doesn't need to know that. Although, Tony supposes, he might soon find out. Tony should probably mention it.

"Well, Cap, when you put it that way..."

"That's what I thought," Steve says, smiling at him. Tony's caught up in it, dark eyes dreamy and soft.

"You two make me nauseous," Clint says, pushing himself to his feet. "Actually, all four of you. I'm going to bed and I need to make a call first."

"Tell Phil I say hi," Steve says sweetly.

Clint scowls at him but still waves good night to them all as he heads for the elevator. Tony's bewildered, "Who's Phil?" floats in the air behind him, chased by Bruce saying, "Coulson?" as the doors swish closed.

He loves his friends but he misses Phil. Maybe Tony _will_ convince him to join them and Clint can finally have all his family in one place. It’s been a good evening he thinks, content with the life he’s living, lounging back against the wall with a smile as Jarvis spirits him towards his floor.


End file.
